


Tick-Tock

by FatesOfConquest



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Insanity, Loss of Mind, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FatesOfConquest/pseuds/FatesOfConquest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tick-Tock says the clock, over and over and over. Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tick-Tock

**Author's Note:**

> Not going to lie the sound of clocks ticking in a silent room drives me low key crazy, that is what actually inspired this quite awhile ago. I just dug it up among some old work and figured, why not? Hope everyone... enjoys? This will also be available on my fanfiction.net under the same name and pen-name if anyone prefers that.
> 
> Disclaimer~ Young Justice and its characters do not belong to me

* * *

_Tick-Tock_

Your only friend the clock on the wall chimes, reminding you time is still moving.

_Tick-Tock_

You are alone in your small prison, even your dear friend just beyond the bars, mocking you, encouraging you, keeping you awake. But that's what friendship was right? A vicious, never ending cycle.

_Tick-Tock_

It had been a long time since you had seen the light, had seen anyone but the clock, even your tormentor had seemed to have given up, his maniacal laugh and smile no longer a constant in your life.

_Tick-Tock_

"How long has it been Mr. Tock? Or is it Mr. Tick?" You question, relaxing your back against the cold, concrete, the uniform you once wore with so much pride in tatters, hanging loosely around you. "How long, how long, how long?"

_Tick-Tock_

"The same answer as usual? You really are no help are you?" A thin laugh escapes your dry lips, echoing around the prison. Your hands lift slowly, the manacles encircling your ever-thinning wrists rattle uselessly. You vaguely remember the first night you were brought here, before befriending Mr. Tick (or is it Tock?), the metal being fused around your wrists, searing burns into your skin.

_Tick-Tock_

"You really can be boring." You drawl, clamping your hands around the bars and pulling yourself to unsteady feet, swaying against the barrier. "Can you answer me this Mr. Tick or Tock?" You pause, head tilting to the side, building a slight suspense for your ever present friend. "What is your favorite color?" You laugh again, throat rasping for air but it only entices you to laugh harder.

_Tick-Tock_

You stop laughing, mouth snapping shut just as quickly as it opened, what was so funny anyway? "You know you could answer my questions every once in awhile." You pout, crossing your arms. You forget how weak your legs are and collapse to the ground without the support but you manage to stay dignified, glaring at the clock, demanding an answer.

_Tick-Tock_

"Humph, I'm not talking to you anymore." You huff, turning yourself around, back to the rude clock hanging unblinking above. It isn't long before you fall back, eyes now staring up at the dark emptiness above.

_Tick-Tock_

"So how did you end up in this hell anyway Mr. Tick Tock? Do you have any family? Friends? I thought mine was coming for me once, not my original family, they're all dead now, but my second family and friends." You say.

_Tick-Tock_

He encourages you to continue. "I was wrong, though, they aren't coming." You laugh but this time, it was humorless, remorseful. "Even if they were they wouldn't find who they're looking for, the little birdie is already gone, gone, gone."

_Tick-Tock_

The moment of clarity shatters in an instant and suddenly you're laughing again, a sharp, mirthless sound splitting the air again, bouncing against the endless expense. What was so funny? Who knows, who knows?

_Tick-Tock_

This is how they finally find you, staring upwards with an insanity-filled laugh shaking your form. But you don't hear them calling you name. Don't see the tears rolling down their faces. Don't feel, rough calloused hands lifting you up. You don't stop laughing as they carry you from the prison.

_Tick-Tock_

_Tick-Tock_

_Tick-Tock_

**Author's Note:**

> ~Fates


End file.
